Lethally Blonde

by Nancy Bartholomew

  As the last rope falls free and Jeremy almost topples from the stand of logs, I hear Andrea scream.

  I push Jeremy behind me. “Run!” I say and shove my cell phone into his hand. “Call 9-1-1 and run like hell!”

  I don’t know if he understands me or is even capable of moving, but it doesn’t matter. Two women are holding Andrea and Zoe has whipped around to face me, a maniacal glint in her pale green eyes.

  I pull the gun from my pocket, step forward and point it right at Zoe’s chest. Without taking my eyes off of her I yell, “I will kill your redhaired leader if just one of you tries to stop us!”

  Zoe looks wild-eyed from me to the women behind her. There is the smallest rustle from the group of women as Andrea struggles to break away from her captors and they try to decide whether to allow this or continue to hold her.

  Zoe seems oblivious to this and the crazy smile returns to her face. “And if you shoot me,” she says softly, “we’ll kill Andrea.”

  I hesitate, uncertain, but realizing it’s up to me to pull this off.

  “So, you shoot her,” I say, forcing a smile. “I don’t think Ray would approve of that, do you, honey? If you kill Andrea, that’s bad for business. She’s married to one of the top agents in Hollywood. He’s got enough power to hurt Ray’s business.”

  Zoe’s attention shifts, along with the others, to Andrea and I see uncertainty in Zoe’s expression. She’s not sure.

  “Killing Jeremy, now that was a brilliant idea,” I say, stepping a little closer. “That’ll take care of those over-budget woes. Jeremy will be the new Brandon Lee. People will flock to see the movie that killed Jeremy Reins. It’ll make more money than The Crow did when Brandon got killed. That was brilliant.”

  Zoe is smiling now, almost lulled by my words and I move even closer because if she doesn’t give me Andrea, I am going to have to kill her.

  I make a mental note to take more courses in hypnosis and subliminal suggestion.

  “I say, lovey, you know you’ve got it all wrong, really. I didn’t give Diane that cocaine. If you want to blame someone, blame Ray. It was his stuff and you left it lying out. How was she supposed to know it was so strong?”

  Jeremy’s voice breaks my carefully woven spell and if I were not so intent upon killing Zoe and protecting Andrea, I swear I would just turn around, shoot the idiot and put him out of his misery!

  “Liar!” Zoe wails. “I didn’t leave anything lying out. I was waiting for…”

  When Zoe doesn’t finish her sentence, I finish it for her.

  “You were waiting for Ray, weren’t you?” I step right up in front of her so she can’t look away. “Well, he came and left you a little present, only Diane found it first and now she’s dead. Just think, sweetie, it could’ve been you.”

  “No-o-o!” Zoe sinks to her knees in the dirt, sobbing.

  I squat down, keeping my face at her level, making the most of her weakened state. “You know what I think?” Zoe looks into my eyes and shakes her head no. “I think you must’ve pissed Ray off real bad, Zoe. You must’ve been a bad girl. I think you owe him lots of money on this film and you’re in over your head. He gave you lots of money and lots of cocaine, and in return, you messed up. You were too busy stuffing coke up your nose to make a good picture. That’s how come you decided to kill Jeremy, so your picture would make millions even if it sucked, which, I can tell you from looking at the script, it does!”

  Zoe’s face slowly fills with terror, her eyes are huge, her skin is ashen and she shakes her head slowly back and forth.

  “He’s crazy,” she gasps. “I did what he said. I didn’t talk to anybody about him. He thinks I’m talking to the feds. He thinks we’re all against him. He’s paranoid and he’s going to kill me!”

  “He saw you and Jeremy with my friend, Emma, didn’t he?” I say softly.

  “I don’t know!” Zoe drops her head into her hands, sobbing. “He said if I ever told anyone what I know, he’d kill me—but I didn’t! I swear to God, I didn’t.” She turns her head to look at Jeremy. “That’s why I thought you…”

  “Killed Diane,” he finishes her sentence in a tired, weak voice. “No.”

  I glare back at him. “I thought you were leaving so you could make that important call for me.”

  Jeremy smiles softly. “Did it, lovey, but I couldn’t leave you alone out here, now could I?”

  Is everyone in Hollywood insane? I wonder.

  I grab Zoe’s arm and pull her to her feet, making sure her little band of devotees see the gun in my hand as I pull her back and away from the others.

  “Let Andrea go,” I say in a very firm tone. “Let her go and I will let the rest of you leave before the sheriff gets here.”

  That is all it takes. The women disburse in a chaotic scramble to elude the long arm of the law, abandoning their leader in a flurry of self-preservation. Zoe looks scared as I tighten my grip on her arm and I find this doesn’t bother me. I want her to have a healthy respect for my abilities. As we start off back down the trail I let Andrea and Jeremy walk on a few yards ahead of us, before speaking.

  “Zoe, I think if you go back to L.A., Estanza will kill you. You know too much and you’re addicted to cocaine. You’re unpredictable and Estanza can’t have that.”

  Zoe makes a mewling sound, like a frightened kitten, and just stares at me, her eyes wild with fear.

  “I’m going to talk to the police. They’ll keep you safe until I can send some government agents to escort you to a safer facility. When Estanza’s arrested, you’ll need to testify. That’s the only way you can get rid of him and the only way you can work out a plea bargain. Otherwise, you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail.”

  “But he’ll kill me!”

  I shake my head. “He’ll kill you if you don’t. Testifying against him is your only chance to stay alive.”

  Andrea and Jeremy are just reaching the edge of the road when a pickup rounds the corner, illuminating them in its headlights.

  “Get back out of the road!” I yell.

  Andrea yanks Jeremy, who is now wearing one of Zoe’s black robes, by the collar, pulling him safely out of the oncoming truck’s path. The approaching vehicle looks like Sam’s truck, but the flashing red light mounted on its hood is deceiving.

  When Sam steps out of the driver’s side, I almost run to him, but something stops me. His left arm is hanging limp at his side. He steps forward, shielding his eyes with his hand. A man steps out of the truck behind him and I catch my breath as I see the gun in his hand trained on Sam’s body.

  Raymond Estanza looks into the woods, his eyes resting on the spot where I know Andrea and Jeremy are hiding and says, “Where is she?”

  Jeremy emerges from his hiding place, shields his eyes and smiles lazily at Sam. “Hey, pard! Where is who?”

  Estanza motions Sam forward. I know what is coming and I am thinking as hard and fast as I can. Zoe’s mouth opens and before she can shriek or say anything, I cover it with my hand and force her down onto the ground.

  “Don’t make a fucking sound!” I hiss in her ear. “If he sees you, he’ll kill you. You stay here until I tell you to move.” I don’t tell her that I’m not certain I’ll be alive to say anything. “I’m going to try and help the others. Stay right here. Understand?”

  Zoe nods and I release her. I slip off my shoes and begin to creep quietly through the woods skirting the driveway, trying to get as close to the spot where the others stand as possible, but having absolutely no clue what I’ll do when I reach them.

  Estanza is slowly approaching Jeremy, the expression on his face grim.

  “You don’t want to play with me, boy,” he says. “Where is Zoe?”

  Jeremy looks puzzled, out of it and confused. “She left me,” he says slowly, and I know he’s playing the part and not as disoriented as he seems.

  I see Andrea look in my direction, startled, and then swivel her head back to watch Estanza.

  “Where is my hus
band?” she calls suddenly. She takes two steps forward to bring herself even with Jeremy, sheltering me from view, and talking loud enough to cover my slow creep toward the spot where Ray Estanza holds his gun on Sam.

  “He’s all right,” Sam answers, but his voice is tight with pain. “We were about to leave the condo and come find you when this idiot…” Sam stops speaking with a grunt and I know Estanza has hurt him. I feel panic grip me with icy fingers and I know I have to do something.

  Estanza nudges Sam forward but when he does, Sam doubles over in pain.

  “What do you mean, where is Zoe?” Andrea asks loudly, still covering for me. “I thought she’d be with you. She ran off with the others.”

  Estanza slowly lifts the gun in his hand bringing it up toward Andrea and I know I can wait no longer. I level my gun at him, close my eyes and pull the trigger.

  There is a horrible explosion, a cracking sound, and a scream that echoes into the darkness, followed by a loud crash.

  I open my eyes in time to see a tree limb bounce off the top of Sam’s truck and carom forward, bouncing off the truck’s hood and striking a glancing blow at Raymond Estanza’s back. I start running toward Estanza, but in the chaos of the moment he doesn’t see me. He is trying to keep his gun trained on the three people closest to him. When I tackle him from the side, knocking him off balance, the guy doesn’t even see it coming.

  We crash to the ground, his gun goes flying, and I ride him like a mechanical bull.

  I stick the gun into the base of his skull and lean forward to whisper in his ear.

  “I, like, so totally have no clue how to use this thing, so you’d better not fucking move! Okay?”

  Sam picks up Estanza’s gun and holds it securely in his good hand.

  “I don’t know if I’d believe that, Ray,” he says. “She’s pretty good with a weapon. You saw how she just killed that tree branch. Hell, imagine what she’d have done if her eyes had been open!”

  Chapter 15

  The reflection of the underwater lights dances along the walls surrounding the pool area and adds to the festive air of the party Jeremy is hosting in my honor. Everyone who is anyone is in attendance—at least, everyone who is anyone in my life at this moment. Even Emma, who has been released from the hospital, is allowed to attend because of Raymond Estanza’s arrest.

  Emma is reclining against a chaise lounge and is being carefully waited on by a quite attentive Jeremy.

  “Oh, lovey,” Jeremy said earlier. “I was never serious about the man. He’s so…well…military. I guess I didn’t need quite that much rigidity in my life after all.”

  Jeremy doesn’t say so, but I know he took it upon himself personally to facilitate Dave’s release from jail and his reunion with Scott. Jeremy is not as bad as I’d thought him to be, or maybe the sordid business with Zoe and the near-death experiences that brought have caused him to mature. Whatever the reason, I have decided that I like the man, even if he is terribly spoiled.

  My father and Sam have me wrapped around their little fingers. They sit, side by side, on matching lounge chairs and cast pitiful glances in my direction. They make a dangerous team.

  “Porsche, honey, would you mind bringing us another shot of Wild Turkey? It’s the only thing that eases Sam’s pain, don’t you know.” My father has somehow adopted an Irish brogue and is laying it on thick. “I’d get it myself,” he says, “but my arthritis is botherin’ me lately.”

  “Porsche, if it’s not too much trouble,” Sam says, “a couple of beer chasers might hit the spot. I think I might be able to get them myself if it’s too much for you….”

  When I turn to do their bidding, Sam reaches out and catches my hand, stopping me.

  “Come here,” he demands, his voice low and husky with promise. I try to resist, but he pulls me down into his arms and kisses me thoroughly, something he’s been doing ever since I killed the tree limb and became known as a dangerous sharpshooter.

  I linger over Sam’s kiss, feeling warmth spread throughout my body, and wanting more, much more than he can handle in his wounded state. I like to think of myself as a patient woman, but even a saint has her limits. Perhaps in a day or two…Sam kisses me again and I change my mind. Perhaps tonight…

  “About those drinks, Porsche,” my father calls impatiently.

  “On your way, woman!” Sam says, pushing me up and onto my feet.

  I walk away hearing their deep chuckles of amused delight echoing around me. They love their newfound power over the “little diva,” as they’ve taken to calling me.

  My cell phone rings and I stop to flip open the pink, crystal case. Renee, with perfect timing, as usual.

  “Porsche? I’m calling to see how you’re feeling. I’ll wait and do the formal debriefing after you return to New York, but I thought I’d better check in today. You know, this was a stressful mission, even for a seasoned agent and not at all what I’d planned for your first time.”

  Hmmm. First time—does this imply the possibility of more missions? Is this Renee’s way of saying she’s pleased with me?

  “I’m fine,” I say, smiling back at my father and Sam. “I believe Jeremy is also fine, psychologically that is, I mean, considering that he displays narcissistic character traits which prevent him from having any truly accurate insight into the effects of his actions. And, as you may know by now, my father’s Post Traumatic Stress Disorder could’ve been re-triggered, but I am fully confident that we have managed to avoid this complication by…”

  “Porsche!” Renee sounds as if she is perhaps choking back a laugh, but I rather doubt this. “I really wanted to check on you. I’d hate to think we’d overload one of our newest agents so early in her career.”

  A little thrill of excitement runs through my body. I’m in! I’m a member of the team! Porsche Rothschild is going to be a Gotham Rose! Oh this is going to be so-o-o good for my self-esteem. I glance back at Sam and wink. I can’t wait to tell my therapist the happy news.

  Marlena scampers down off my father’s chair and runs to join me as I say goodbye to Renee and start walking.

  “Hurry up with those drinks!” my father yells.

  I shoot the two men a dirty look over my shoulder as I go, but they only laugh harder. They know I don’t mean it. They know they have each captured my heart, and they use this to their full advantage, the little bastards! I would sure like to know what I did to deserve this treatment, because whatever it is, I fully intend to keep it up for the rest of my life.

  Marlena must read my mind because she stops in her tracks, rises up onto her hind legs and emits a long ferret scream. When I whirl around to see what’s wrong, she topples over, playing “dead” on the slate patio floor.

  I lean down to peer at her, she pops one eye open in a wild ferret wink and I could just swear the little minx is grinning!

  Turn the page for an exclusive excerpt from the next book in the exciting

  THE IT GIRLS miniseries from Silhouette Bombshell.

  MS. LONGSHOT by

  Sylvie Kurtz

  After the suspicious deaths of several top show horses, the Gotham Rose spies called on socialite Alexa Cheltingham to go undercover as a grubby groom.Her riches-to-rags transition was easy—mucking stables was a far cry from partying on Park Avenue.She also had to protect the mayor’s show-jumping daughter, hunt for the horse killer, even dodge a murder rap—all while resisting her chief suspect’s undeniable charms….

  On sale December 2005 at your favorite retail outlet.

  “The Governess has asked me to send you on an assignment.” Renee added a slice of lemon to her tea.

  I sat up a little straighter and anticipation shot through my veins. Thank you, Governess! At least someone had faith in me.

  None of the agents had ever met the mysterious Governess, not even Renee. The only thing we could agree on was that, whoever she was, she was well-connected. And when the equally mysterious Duke entered the conversation, you’d think we were a book club disc
ussing an old Victoria Holt gothic novel.

  “Alexa, have you been keeping up with news of the show circuit?” Renee asked, reaching for a tea sandwich.

  “No, not really.” What was the point of salting a wound? I got my fix of horses through my foundation and my weekly trips to the estate in Darien, Connecticut, where I kept two horses. “Why?”

  “A string of accidents have happened this winter on the Palm Beach show-jumping circuit. Canterbury Crown died of a heart attack while going over a jump and his rider was hurt from the fall. Drug testing showed cocaine in the horse’s blood.”

  “Cocaine?” Who would do such a thing? Of course, some people would do anything to win—even hurt a defenseless animal. “What happened?”

  “The police investigated, but came to no conclusion.”

  “You want me to look into it,” I said hopefully. My heart fluttered against my ribs as I leaned ever so slightly forward.

  “A few weeks later, a barn fire killed four horses, including the current National Horse Show champion, Total Eclipse.”

  Just thinking about the terror those poor animals had to endure raised my blood pressure and sparked my temper. But I bit my tongue. This was definitely my kind of assignment, but Renee was obviously not asking for my opinion.

  “The latest victim is Monica Lightbourne, daughter of the media heiress,” Renee continued. “Someone injected her horse, Blue Ribbon Belle, with a drug that caused a neurological reaction so violent the horse had to be put down.”

  “That’s awful. How do you want me to help?”

  “The Metropolitan Spring Classic Charity Horse Show begins in a week,” Renee said.

  “You want me to investigate at the show since I’ll be there for my foundation’s charity event.” Yes! This I could do. No stretch at all.

  “Not exactly.” Renee sipped her tea, humor glinting in her eyes. “As you know, the mayor’s daughter participates in show jumping. He’s afraid his daughter, who’s the front-runner to win the Grand Prix, will be the next victim.”